Moonlight Becomes You
by Javanyet
Summary: A month after Data's destruction, Starfleet assigns an identical replacement. Can he convince his widow he's still the man she married? I invented the rank of Administrative Executive Officer. Both an epilogue and a prologue to my impossibly long AU Data/Leo/Picard cycle. Fasten your seat belts, you're in for a long, strange trip...


_If I say I love you, I want you to know  
It's not just because there's moonlight..._

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here." It was barely a question. Captain Picard's administrative executive officer Lieutenant Leora O'Reilly had barely gotten her head around her husband Data's death (for which she had a front row seat at the blown-out bulkhead), and here was Starfleet's brilliant replacement "Positronic Android Data Series B" staring her in the face. Even if she could believe it was a deliberate act to make her misery more complete, nobody could hate her this much. He stood in the doorway, hesitant but of course not "awkward". Had he even learned that yet?

"I have been re-assigned to our quarters." His voice held a trace of the warmth of "her" Data (or had she simply filled that in herself after so long?) and the calm familiarity was there as well. Of course. Files to be accessed. Memory. She was there, they were there, all accessible in a nanosecond of positronic process. Whatever internal drama was playing out on her face, Leo knew that he had enough of "her" Data (how much? all of him? and how much of her? of them?) in him to understand its significance if not its depth. Liar. She knew there was _all_ of Data in him. That was the problem, wasn't it?

"Perhaps it is too soon. I do not wish to cause you further distress."

"For christsake, how can you _not_?" She spun away from that concerned face and rushed back into the room to slap at the comlink on her desk. The door slid shut before the perplexed android.

"LaForge here."

"It's me Geordi and I wanna know what the _hell_ is going on! 'Series B' is at _my_ door saying these are _its_ quarters, and I wanna know whose idea of a sick joke this is!" Rage had overcome pain for the moment anyway.

"Oh gods I have no idea, I'll talk to the captain. This shouldn't have happened."

"I sure hope not."

"Where is he now?"

"The captain? How the hell do I know, I'm on 'bereavement leave'."

"No, I mean Data," Geordi realized his slip too late to stop it.

"That's not Data." Leo's voice was harder than a construction droid's. "It was in the hall outside my door a minute ago. I have no idea where it went."

"I'll call the captain." His friend and best friend's widow steadfastly referred to Starfleet's replacement as "it" since Data's destruction, a vast departure for someone who'd displayed an exquisite sensitivity to the personal substance of androids for obvious reasons. But Geordi too questioned the wisdom of filling Data's post so quickly with an exact replica, even with all the recently stored positronic circuits transferred. Starfleet was striving for continuity (and speed) but it was hard to believe they'd never considered the difficulty it would cause to Data's friends and loved ones to be confronted with the same friend and colleague whose memorial service had barely been concluded. Geordi had managed to wrestle his unease under some semblance of control and was dealing with "Series B" as naturally as could be expected, even more so. Geordi was managing to treat "Series B" as Data recovering from amnesia, and linking him that way with the identity of his "lost" friend . It seemed already that "Series B" might eventually become the Data they'd known, or perhaps someone a little different. Maybe they'd simply accept him as he was. All Geordi knew was that he wasn't the only one cursing Starfleet's legendary efficiency.

Some minutes later when her door chimed, Leo barked, "_Get lost_, you positronic poser. You don't belong here." She meant that in every way possible. Why couldn't they have adapted a Borg, or at least built a different body? And what twisted, spiteful being sent it to _her _quarters? Their quarters. But there was no "they" not anymore, no matter who it looked, talked, or acted like.

The doorcom chirped to life. "Lieutenant, it's me. Please open the door." She'd locked it in a rage after speaking with Geordi.

Leo unlocked the panel and the door slid open to reveal the captain, his face a picture of concern she chose to ignore.

"Apologies for my language."

"No apology necessary. And I think we've worked together other long enough not to resort to protocol."

She dropped the pretense then and nearly shouted, "How could you _do_ this? _Why_? Isn't it enough I have a 3-d ghost to deal with every day?" She backed into the room as he approached her, ready to deflect any logic he was ready to recite.

"Please believe me this was unintentional. Starfleet's personnel transfer records bore the name 'Data Series B', and instead of overriding the computer Ensign Robinson merely processed the crew quarters assignment." Ensign Robinson, a new crew member, not long out of the Starship Administration program at the Academy, hurriedly transferred from a lesser post to substitute for Leo during her bereavement leave. Bereavement. An elegant word for the shattering of her existence. "We're all a little off-center right now."

"A little." She uttered a short, bitter laugh. "I'm afraid I wasn't 'on center' myself, I swore at it and I don't know what else."

"'It'? Lieutenant I know you're aware of the implications of that term." Androids had long been assimilated into Federation culture and their rights were as defined and recognized as any other race. The pronoun "it" in application to androids had since been discarded as a slur, and it disturbed Picard that his administrative exec used it exclusively in reference to the "new" Data.

"I don't care how many records or files or officers call it," she paused and corrected herself not without sarcasm, "_him_ 'Data'. It's not him."

He didn't want to pull rank or argue. Data's "death" had profoundly affected everyone who knew him in unique ways, no one being more or less bereft than anyone else. And as for his unexpected 'return'… it was a task for everyone to know how to behave. Everyone's behavior was tentative, even the "new" Data's… it was, Picard recognized, rather like the Monkey's Paw. Who doesn't wish they could undo the death of a loved one, but how would one handle it when it happened? Lieutenant O'Reilly seemed to have segued from one denial to another.

* * *

Leora Eileen O'Reilly-Soong had always clung to a spouse's typical notion that her husband could never be taken from her. Unfortunately in addition she subconsciously considered his positronic nature to be a guarantee of immortality despite various past episodes of damage and near-destruction. Just summon Geordi or even Miles, and all-better. Even as Data had prepared to leap to the Scimitar that day nearly a month before, even as he pulled her aside and tried to distill years of connection into a few words because he knew the odds, even then she denied it. Even as a Starfleet officer and one intimately acquainted with their predicament, she'd said "Tell me all about it later."

"And if I cannot?"

"Stop talking like a human. Until you come back, that is." And she'd quickly kissed him good luck as if that was all he'd need. As if it were only 'til next time. When they all watched the finale through the blown bulkhead, she'd stood immobile as if it were some fictional movie.

And she'd been on shipboard bereavement leave since. At first she'd been near-catatonic, then gradually pulled from her darkness by the determination of her captain. Unable to concentrate or sleep, unable to organize or delegate. It hadn't been unexpected, of course; that's why bereavement leave existed. "As long as you need," Picard had insisted as she withdrew from his embrace. He'd forced her to look him in the eye, no room for obfuscation. "Not a moment less."

When the 'new' Data had been assigned (or re-assigned, depending upon whom you asked) just three weeks later, Leora was invited to attend the preliminary command orientation meeting not as Data's wife but as a bridge-level officer. She'd been warned; Deanna had fully "explored the impact" with her.

* * *

"He's an exact replica, Leo. Appearance, voice, mannerisms. Of course in most ways he'll be the Data he was when he first joined us, because he was made with the copied positronic net and plans stored by Starfleet at the Daystrom Institute. He'll _be_ Data, but the people who knew him best will notice something missing at first."

"You mean he'll have the knowledge but not the context." Leo thought she'd be able to handle it. "He'll know who I am and what we were, who we all were to him, but he won't understand exactly why."

"That's about right. And it won't be easy, not for any of us, and not for him. But the important thing to remember is that you don't have to attend this meeting, you don't have to meet with him at all until you feel you're ready. As Data's next of kin right now you're entitled to as much 'buffer time' as you need."

"If he's been 'restored' then he's not dead. So that makes me what? A restored wife? And you mean denial time, don't you?"

Deanna shook her head. "It's only denial if it becomes a way of life. It's normal to withdraw and regroup, to readjust to your new surroundings without," a hesitation, "without someone who was so central to your life. It isn't weakness to refuse the invitation."

"But it isn't progress, either. Deanna whatever else I am or am not I'm a Starfleet officer. I know it's not healthy or reasonable to jump back into work right away, but if they invite me to this preliminary meeting I can be professional enough to attend."

* * *

Her wretched judgment was evident from the first moment she laid eyes on him. And everyone saw, everyone who already acknowledged their own difficulty and tried to work with it instead of hiding it. When the android introduced by Starfleet Command comlink as "Lieutenant Commander Data" extended his hand in a cautious gesture of greeting, Leo simply couldn't respond. After the span of a (human) heartbeat he withdrew and sat down, leaving her to do the same. She knew everyone present believed she was on the verge of running from the Ready Room. Only Leo knew she was a breath away from throwing herself into the arms of "Series B" and demanding to know why he was so late coming home. The meeting passed as if at a great distance, and later Leo couldn't have repeated a sentence uttered by anyone if her life depended on it.

When the meeting adjourned Leo forced herself to approach "Series B".

"Forgive me, Commander, I was rude. Welcome aboard the Enterprise." She managed not to flinch as he took her hand with a consciously gentle grip. His voice was far less than strictly formal as he replied, "There is no apology necessary. I am aware that this is extremely difficult." He seemed to be struggling to find some common ground that wouldn't be presumptuous. Certainly he "remembered" who she was well enough to realize how conflicted she must be.

"It's just something of a shock, is all."

He nodded. "I am hoping you will be able to overcome your shock, and that perhaps we can speak in private when you are ready. I am hoping you will be able to help me… fill in the blanks?" He was making an effort to access the proper phraseology for a long-established dynamic that had been cut off sharply and just as suddenly restored. Familiar experience modified by entirely new variables.

"You mean compensate for the experiential gaps in your positronic neural net?" Somehow it was easier to speak scientifically than in terms of personal interaction.

"Yes. There is knowledge, but no context. I hope to be able to re-create it."

Knowledge but no context. Her exact observation to Deanna. "I can't make any promises right now, Commander."

"Please. Call me Data." It was his name, after all. His mild expression grew more serious as Leo seemed to shrink back into herself.

"I can't," she muttered, barely audible, and now did turn and hurry out of the ready room. He stared after her.

"Don't try so hard, Commander," Captain Picard appeared at his shoulder. "Lieutenant O'Reilly is bearing a particular kind of grief right now, and your presence causes her a particular kind of difficulty."

"'Particular'? Do you mean more so?"

"No, merely different. The understanding should come to you both in time."

"Captain I am aware of the depth of the bond we shared, but I am confused. How can I be someone other than myself? I am Data, I cannot be otherwise. If that is the source of her difficulty then understanding will not change it."

Geordi joined them, hearing the last part of the conversation. "You'd be surprised how much understanding can change. But the captain's right, don't try so hard. Just let things happen as they happen."

He processed for a few seconds, accessing his knowledge of Leo's belief system. "Existentialism, Taoism. Letting go, letting happen. Yes, I understand, I must give it time."

* * *

That was nearly a week ago. Now in Leora's quarters, faced with her stubborn refusal even to try to deal with the change in circumstances, Picard's patience was wearing thin. She didn't have the corner on grief, hers wasn't even the most profound loss. She'd known Data for less time than any of them. In addition, ship's administration was rapidly going to hell in spite of Ensign Robinson's best efforts. She simply didn't have the years of familiarity, the now-innate knowledge that enabled Leora O'Reilly to anticipate many of his and the ship's requirements. Picard had been dealing with a personal loss greater than many he could remember, and along with everyone else was presently navigating its abrupt reversal. Now the everyday rhythm of the smallest things he'd taken for granted was also thrown into chaos. Picard would have liked nothing better than to order Leora back to duty, but he knew of course that was out of the question and was more than a little ashamed of the inclination.

"Lieutenant, this has to stop. This _will_ stop. You can't avoid reality by pretending it's not there. The 'new' Data, _is_ Data. Every element of the man we knew, every memory and thought and logical process, every experience we have shared with him, all of it is inside him as he is now. It is up to us to help him re-forge those connections that will provide meaning to fact, and restore him fully."

Leo shook her head insistently. "I can't do this, captain, I _can't_. I'm begging you to authorize a transfer. Just send me back to the Daystrom Institute, and I'll continue the cybernetics project." It wasn't the first time she'd made the request, and Picard delivered his customary response.

"_No_, Lieutenant. If you want to resign your commission I can't stop you. But I will _not_ approve a transfer for you, not on the longest day in the universe. Your project has been suspended, and your position is far too essential to the operation of this ship to be replaced on a grief-driven whim by someone less experienced. You're engaged in a tremendous struggle but so are we all, and by god you're a Starfleet officer and I won't have my crew abandoning their duty to run off in search of some cure for reality. I'll thank you not repeat your request, is that understood?" He hadn't intended to raise his voice, to speak so harshly, but the trials of the past few weeks, not to mention the past few days, had worn him down. He wouldn't brook the loss of his "other" right hand any more than he'd transfer Will or Geordi, especially under the current cirumstances.

"Understood, sir." Leo responded automatically but in that moment the automatic-pilot that had been supporting her crashed, and she covered her face with one hand and retreated to the sofa, quietly undone. Picard watched helplessly. He'd never been good at this sort of thing, always absurdly grateful at his crew's ability to support each other emotionally in times of trouble. For all of his awkwardness, seeing her fighting to control her emotional desperation was something he couldn't simply observe while hoping for someone else to step up. Their connection, after all, went deeper than duty or profession, as was true of all of his key command staff. They'd simply been through too much together to be coolly distant, which was what made them so effective as a team. And of course his connection with Leo went well beyond that, in spite of their respective limitations. Picard sat down next to Leo and leaned close.

"Lieutenant… Leora. Leo, please listen, don't you see how making a permanent decision based on temporary pain would be unwise? Not just for me as your captain, or for the ship, but for you and all the people you care about. And once this… injury begins to settle down, you'll know I'm right."

She knew why he felt that way, and that he was right. But none of it made sense right now, all that made sense was that she just wanted to _go_. She'd been banned from the holodeck, as would be any recently bereaved crew member, and could find no refuge in fantasy. The emphasis was, of course, on processing the grief, and that depended upon remaining in the present. It wasn't just seeing the "new" Data, either. It was seeing the enormity of the loss on everyone's face who knew him, at the same time they worked themselves back into the functioning world with his "replacement". Then again it wasn't really a replacement, was it? "It" was _him_, in every form and function and gesture. Like a human recovering from head trauma, and having to fill in the blanks, he wasn't "all there". But most of him was, and that's what was killing her. Finally she sat up and turned to Picard, feeling immediately guilty for the look of sympathy (and profound discomfort) on his face.

"I'm sorry. I know you're doing everything you can for everyone involved and I can't imagine how that must be, considering what you must be feeling yourself."

"I didn't come here to talk about my challenges."

"I know. I just have this, this panic to run, as far as I can, it's so strong and so _illogical_ I have dreams of blowing the nearest hatch and jumping out into space to follow him. The 'old' him." She saw the flicker in his eyes. "No, you needn't worry about that. It's just a dream, not a plan. And I'll tell you something I haven't even told Deanna, that all my impersonal pronouns, all my yelling and screaming 'it's not him', well it's just me trying to convince myself." She looked away for a moment, ran her hands over her face. "I look at him and I see D, I see the man I knew for years who became part of me. His voice, his expressions, his need to do everything just the right way, it's not a remake it's _him_, okay with a little systemic amnesia or something. But I can't make anyone understand," now she looked Picard in the eye again, "I saw him _die_, and it sent me into a black hole and sucked all the life out of me, but at least it was something I could interpret. People die, people you love and don't want to live without, and it would have been no more or less 'unthinkable' than any other loss I suppose, until Starfleet resurrected him." Picard waited in silence, uncertain what her point was. She shrugged, shook her head in confusion, "Captain," and suddenly she had to call him by his name, "Jean-Luc, I don't know what to _feel_ anymore. I know who he is, I think, but who am I to him now? Do we take up where we left off? Do I get to 'know' him again, do I help him fill in the blanks and how can I do that without wondering who he'll be when he _does_ get it all together? I mean, even without that emotion chip there was a connection between us, what if that's the one thing that can't come back?"

Picard was nodding, smiling gently, understanding now it was more complex than denial. "Tell me, if you haven't shared any of this with Deanna, who _would_ you share it with? Someone who might have some answers worth listening to, I mean. I'm glad that you trust me enough, but we both know I'm at a loss with this. Who is it that could help you make sense of it? You know no matter where that person is I'll bring him or her here, or send you wherever you need to be to see them. Just tell me who?" Leo looked away again.

"I threw him out just before you came." She was surprised to feel Picard slide closer and slip an arm around her, then both, in a spontaneous hug devoid of awkwardness.

"There were powerful connections formed between Data and all of us, long before an extra chip gave him a human analog for it. Connections go both ways, Lieutenant, or I wouldn't be sitting here trying not to act like a fool. You became as much a part of Data as he did you. And as he would be the first to assert, he is not _able_ to forget. I suspect if you found the courage to take this to him you wouldn't be working with a blank slate."

"Oh, is that all it will take. 'Courage'."

Now he released her and sat back. "You won't convince me you lack for that, Lieutenant. After all, what kind of courage did it take for you to marry an android in the first place?"

She sighed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Yeah well what I don't have myself I manage to get by osmosis. Lucky I keep the right company." She even managed a smile.

* * *

"Counselor, I hope my request to speak with you is not making things more difficult."

Deanna chose honesty as the best response and purposely used his proper name to do so. "Data, any help you can find here only makes things easier for all of us. I'm glad to help, as I've always been. And yes, some of us are having a some adjustment anxiety. It has nothing to do with you. We're all a bit disconcerted by having a dear friend and fellow crew member returned to us when we'd scarcely begun to mourn your loss."

"I understand, counselor. It seems to be quite jarring for my colleagues. Geordi, however, has been especially helpful to me as I adjust to my 'return'."

"Good. That helps the rest of us adjust, too. Now what can I help you with, Data?"

The perplexed look on his face threatened to become permanent. "There is one aspect of my return that is proving particularly problematic." He hesitated, unsure of how to continue, so Deanna helped him along.

"I imagine Leo is having a great deal of difficulty with your 'reappearance'." He appeared relieved that she'd brought it out.

"Yes. When I went to our quarters today – the quarters I was assigned on being re-stationed on the Enterprise – Lieutenant O'Reilly responded not only with distress, but with hostility." He seemed at great pains to refer to her with formality.

"Data," Deanna reminded him gently, "it's okay to use her first name. You're married, after all."

"Are we? When my original form was destroyed, did that destroy every existing relationship involved? I am confused… I _am_ Data, the entirety of my positronic neural net and memory files retained by Starfleet as Lieutenant Commander Data have been restored. All that has changed is my framework, and even that has been constructed exactly in the original design. I realize there are some links to be re-established in my net, 'context' I believe describes it."

Deanna remembered Leora using exactly the same word, and nodded. "Yes, 'context' describes it perfectly."

"I also understand that my fellow crew members, even my best friend Geordi, will take some time to adjust. I have been 'dead', and now am restored. It is a difficult transition for human understanding. Where Lieut," he corrected himself, and Deanna noticed his expression change even if Data didn't realize it in himself, "where Leo is concerned there are levels of complexity that I seem to be unable to grasp. I know they are there, but I cannot characterize them. I cannot navigate them."

"Because they're emotional levels, Data."

"But we were connected, devoted as friends and lovers, we were together in every interpersonal sense _before_ I obtained the emotion chip. And after I removed it."

Deanna thought for a moment before attempting to explain. "Data, when Leo fell in love with you, and when you decided to devote yourself to her, you were as you are now, a positronic being responding to your own conclusions drawn from your own experience. In a way, that was more powerful for her because it was, for your part, unclouded by emotions that can often deceive and confuse humans. What Leo found with you was, in its way, a pure love. Then she witnessed the loss of that, and in the weeks that passed she was beginning to cope with it in conventional human terms. She knew the man she loved and married was destroyed before her eyes. Your rebuilding and return can't alter that knowledge, yet she must see in you almost everything she thought she'd lost when your 'original' was destroyed. Leo can't forget you're not precisely one and the same, even though in logical terms you are Data as he, you, always have been."

"Leo always accepted me exactly as I was, and I _am_ who I was. Tell me counselor, if I were human, and suffered a terrible accident, and returned to duty horribly disfigured in appearance or altered in behavior, would such a dichotomy exist? I would still be the same person inside, would I not?"

"I see what you're saying, Data, and while I can't fully explain it all I can tell you is that for an indefinable reason of human emotion, this is different. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I have no better way to describe it."

Data shook his head, unsatisfied. "She is distressed, Deanna, and I am the cause." and this was the first time he'd addressed her by name. Familiar habits were rapidly becoming reassimilated in his net. "I would like to help her."

Deanna smiled, remembering that Data's first encounter with Leo was while he attended a conference at the Academy. He'd offered his tutoring services in basic warp drive technology after encountering the despairing Leora crying in the library days before a final exam. "It seems to me that's where you began some years ago, wanting to help."

"Geordi and the captain have said I should not 'try so hard' to reacquaint myself with Leo. I am not sure what that means."

"I think it means you have to leave the door open, but let her walk through it on her own." He didn't respond. "Does that make sense, Data, or should I redefine the concept?"

Data wore his "processing" expression. "No, thank you," he replied in a moment, "my metaphorical links are recovering rather rapidly. I will do as you suggest."

Deanna stopped him as he rose to leave. "Tell me, Data, why is it so important to you that Leo sees you as the same Data she knew before?" She knew the answer, of course, but wanted Data to conceptualize it himself.

"I am not certain how to express it. Even as my friends like Geordi, and you, and the captain help me find my place among you once again, something does not seem…" he searched for a word, "synchronous. There is a blank in my net apart from those being restored, and I believe it may be related to Leora O'Reilly. I will not know unless I can convince her to explore that possibility with me."

Deanna offered simply, "You mean you miss her, Data, regardless of how you express it. I think that 'blank' you're noticing is the home you made together, the place where you could be yourselves and understand one another in a way nobody else could. It's not unusual for married couples, in fact it's a vital part of the experience."

"But if she will not or cannot interact with me, we will never know."

"That's possible, of course, but I think it's unlikely," Deanna reassured him as she saw him to the door. "I hope I've been some help, Data."

"Yes, Deanna, and thank you. I may have the need to speak with you again, as things progress. If they progress."

"You know I'll be here anytime you need me. Good luck, Data." Abandoning professionalism, Deanna stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek as the door slid open, "and welcome home."

* * *

Ten Forward was slow for that time of night. Leo had been waiting only five minutes when Data arrived, and she'd seen Guinan hug him in greeting. Moments before Guinan had personally delivered a glass of jasmine tea.

"There's nothing wrong with being nervous on a first date," she'd told Leo with a smile.

"This isn't a 'first date', Guinan."

"Sure it is. Not many people are lucky enough to have a second chance to get it perfect."

When Data approached her table moments later, apologizing for being (seconds) late, Leo had to take a breath. He'd changed from his "civvies" to his red commander's uniform. Having been temporarily assigned to helm until he re-acclimation was complete, the red of command would be his color. She'd forgotten how he took her breath away when he wore red.

"Leora is anything wrong?" As he sat he added awkwardly, "Excuse me. May I address you as 'Leora'?"

She was still unable to stop staring. Human, alien, or android, she'd always believed he was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. "Of course you can, it's my name isn't it?"

Now he regarded her more closely, and leaned forward a bit. "And will you address me as 'Data'?" If her answer was no, he had no idea how he'd proceed. Data observed what he recognized as a note of sadness in her expression and voice as she replied.

"Uh, yeah… Data." It took an effort. "I'm sorry, really I am, I haven't meant to be so nasty. It's not your fault and I shouldn't be punishing you merely for existing."

As she spoke Data realized he _knew_ this woman, he was aware of her history, her beliefs and character, her needs and her devotion to him were present in his neural net as if they'd been part of his original program. He knew her fears, her flaws, the texture of her skin and hair and the sounds she made when making love. It was all a part of him and he knew that similar knowledge of him had to be a part of her "neural net" as well. But for reasons he couldn't understand she had shut off that part of her that had come from him and their life together. Even now there was a painful struggle evident in her, it showed in her eyes and her uneasiness. She continued to stare at him for another few seconds, what was she seeing, he wondered, then looked away again.

"Perhaps if you tell me what is disturbing you, I can… help?" A simple question, he thought, and hadn't expected it would trigger the haunted look he saw in Leora's eyes as she turned to face him again. She'd been right on the edge of losing it for weeks, never giving in except in absolute solitude. Some part of her believed if nobody saw her cry then none of it was real.

"Those are the first words you ever said to me, remember?" You. Not 'he'. He didn't fail to notice the pronoun.

"I cannot 'forget'." Realizing it was a mere fact of his technology, he added, "I would not forget." The second statement was as true as the first, and came equally naturally.

"Me neither." She shook her head as if to clear it and stared down at her hands, clenched them hard together on the table. Her wedding ring, set with three Astral emeralds that Data had moved heaven and earth to find for her, morphed from deep green to golden shimmers in the dim lights of the lounge. That was the reason he'd been so insistent on the stone, and had driven Will and Geordi insane enlisting them in his search, because its color was deep emerald green lit with subtle topaz lights that constantly shifted in intensity and location. It seemed to him the perfect symbol of their combination, his golden eyes and her green ones. Will had finally located the ring via a Ferengi black marketeer, and Data had paid handsomely for it. The identical memories now came to them at exactly the same moment. When Leo looked him in the eye again, it was obvious to them both.

"I couldn't take it off." He didn't reply. "Data I know what you're thinking," she told him in a rush, "you're sitting there, the only _you_ that you've ever known, and you have no idea in the world why it's so hard for me to even try to begin to accept that you're 'back'. The Data I knew, I know it's a stupid phrase but that's the way I feel it, the Data I knew I know he's all there, _you're_ all there, and you look and sound exactly the same, so why do I feel like you're goddamn Trill hosting some kind of artificial Data symbient? I mean that's what you _always_ were, everything that is Data existed in exactly the same form and substance and circuitry before as now. Every last bit of you is identical except for the new enhancement of your neural net connector synthesis processors, which should really be seen as a plus to any sane person, shouldn't it?" She knew she was riding a wave of stream-of-consciousness and in that moment was grateful that Data _was_ an android because he was the only one besides the ship's computer who would have the slightest chance of keeping up. Leo was so caught up in her inner battle to make verbal sense of the unruly storm of her thoughts and emotions she didn't notice she'd begun clutching her left hand with her right, so hard that her wedding ring was beginning cut into her.

Without thinking about it Data reached down and disengaged her right hand with his own, and examined it. His hypersensitive fingertips felt a tiny break in the skin but he noted it wasn't bleeding. "You have hurt yourself. Perhaps you are not ready to discuss these matters." The warmth and gentleness of his grip was like a living memory. Leo closed her hand on his.

"I'm just so scared, D, I don't know what to think or feel I'm so scared."

D, the nickname only she used. It came out unbidden. She'd been telling Picard the truth, Data _was_ the one person she could bring her deepest fears and doubts to, and the paradox that they were centered on him this time was trumped by her desperation. His voice became low, intimate. Established patterns were rapidly being revived.

"Why are you afraid?" He didn't let go of her hand.

She took a deep shuddery breath then, and felt his grip tighten almost imperceptibly. "I saw you gone. I saw you disappear in a storm of fire, and it burnt the heart right out of me except I was still alive. Suddenly everything was black and cold and everything I thought was so important and so much my life didn't matter a bit because the person who knew me best and truest was gone."

"But I have come back. You know it is me."

"How can I make you understand? What I was going through when you blew into space, that panic and pain and desolation I didn't think I'd live through, I didn't _want_ to live through, suddenly I _was_ living through it. And after a week or so, even though I was still in that cold dark place, I realized that everything and everybody I thought was so important _still_ was important and it would take an impossibly long time but I might just fit into it again. It was the worst kind of hell, but it was a hell that made sense. Do you understand what I mean? In human terms, the death of others makes its own kind of sense and surviving it follows a certain course. And once you've survived it, it's done."

Knowledge dawned in Data's mind, not the least because he did know Leo so fully and could predict her responses as surely as his own.

"And because I have come back, it is no longer 'done'. If I can 'live' again, I can also 'die' again."

Leo nodded tightly. "How can I survive that again?" her voice was barely a whisper but he heard every syllable. "If there's any blessing in losing the core, the _soul_ in your life it's that you only have to face it once because that place only exists in your life once. Once it's empty, others can be made and filled but that first space remains forever, shaped like the one who left. Oh, god, I'm not making sense anymore…" She was unable to look in those all-knowing eyes a moment longer, and as she stared down at the candle on the table Data let go of her hand. That was it, she figured, she'd completely fried his recovering circuits with her crazy talk.

She needed him, yet was afraid of him. Uncertain how or why it made sense to him, Data nonetheless understood the apparent contradiction. In fact his deepest knowledge of Leora O'Reilly was well stocked with a vivid inventory of her many apparent contradictions, not the least of which was her ability to love and marry a synthetic life form without so much as a human heartbeat to comfort her. He reached a decidedly untentative finger to touch a tear that had crept down her cheek.

"I do not wish you to suffer this way because of me."

His touch on her face made Leo's eyes flutter shut involuntarily. Paradox, paradox, she knew who he was, she knew she loved him. Not "still", not "even though", but just here and who he was. Like always. "It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault."

"Perhaps I should request a transfer, then." Did she hear _sadness_ in his voice?

"No," she took his hand again, "no please don't. I miss you, Data, I miss _us_, I just don't know exactly who 'us' is right now. A few hours ago after I told you to get lost, the captain asked me who I could think of that could help me make sense of this. Stupid me, you're the only one I could come up with."

"You will never be 'stupid'. We have made sense of many things, Leo, perhaps you are right and we can make sense of this too."

Data's comlink beeped. He inquired silently if he should answer, and Leo said "Go ahead. Don't wanna get fired your first day back."

"Commander Data here."

"Ensign Robinson, sir. First let me apologize for my error…"

"No need for apologies, Ensign. This is a challenge for everyone." He was all business, Leo noticed, as if he'd been hard at work instead of trying to sort out the meaning of life. Perks of positronic systems, she thought to herself.

"Thanks, Commander. Now if you can just keep Lt. O'Reilly from transporting me into space I might be okay." Data's eyebrows raised and in spite of everything Leo suppressed a smile and motioned to him not to let on she was there. "I will see what I can do, Ensign."

"Commander, I've fixed your crew quarters assignment. You'll still be on the command deck." Data saw a frown shadow Leo's face.

"Thank you ensign, may I contact you later to confirm that?"

"Well, yes, but the captain said,"

"I will inform the captain you have done your duty, and contact you later. Data out." He tapped his comlink and turned back to Leo.

"Is there a problem?" he asked her.

She heaved a sigh. "I just feel like a jerk. You were right, they _are_ your quarters. I mean I only moved in after we, you know."

"After we first made love and confirmed our relationship," he offered helpfully.

Leo squirmed and looked around to see if anyone heard, but nobody was nearby. "Anyway, like I said I _miss_ you even if I'm not clear on what comes next. There's plenty of room, and your stuff is all there. Spot can come back…" she hastened to explain, "you know Spot never liked me so after, when, you know when I was falling apart I sent her to live with Worf. She really likes him, beast to beast and all that, and he growled and grumbled but I think he kind of likes having Spot around. Not that he'd mind giving her back to you."

"Spot does not 'dislike' you, Leo," Data corrected with a patience that rang many memory bells for them both. "She simply has known me longer."

"Then how come she only ever sharpened her claws on _my_ stuff?" He didn't have an answer to that.

They regarded one another for a moment, Leo a bit less wary and Data less uncertain than before. Apparently the links in her neural net were also re-establishing themselves.

"Then shall I contact Ensign Robinson and tell her the new quarters will not be necessary?"

Leo squirmed again, this time as if embarrassed by her earlier hesitation. "Yeah, go ahead. Data, really, I'm gonna try not to make this any weirder than it is."

He almost remembered how to smile. "That will not be necessary. I am quite comfortable in your company." He tapped his comlink. "Ensign Robinson, Commander Data."

"Yes, Commander."

"Please cancel the order for new quarters for me. I will be returning to my original quarters."

"Yes, sir. Have you any possessions to be moved?"

"No thank you, Ensign, all I seem to have is… myself."

"Very good sir. I'll take care of it at once."

"Thank you Ensign. Data out."

Leo tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn. She'd long ago finished her tea, but Guinan had instructed her waitress not to disturb her and Data.

"I'm sorry, it really isn't the conversation or the company. I'm just so _tired_, you know? I haven't been sleeping right, since, well, you know."

Data resisted the urge to rephrase things more accurately. It was a habit he'd almost overcome before his "death" and some effort would be required to reroute those aspects of his neural net. "You appear tired. Your eyes," he reached out and nearly touched beneath one of them, but stopped himself short. They were shadowed underneath, bloodshot and bleary. "You should try to sleep. I can return later if you wish, when you are more rested."

"No, that's okay. You won't bother me. You know how I am once I actually pass out…" He'd told her once that photon torpedoes at full blast wouldn't wake her if she were not due for duty. More links re-formed. She was already finding a comfort in his presence that fought with her hesitation.

"Yes, I remember."

Leo shook her head slightly. "Listen to us. We're talking as if you've been gone for years, it's only been a month."

"But we have been divided by more than time."

Her eyes widened as she was struck by the accuracy of his words. "You do cut to the chase, don't you." Now she yawned extravagantly, stretched like a weary child. "Can we go home now? Can we just be _normal_ again?"

Data rose and extended his hand to help her stand. "Yes, to the first question. If it is acceptable, the second we can explore together."

"Okay." She was rapidly becoming so exhausted that his precisely constructed phrases were beginning to confuse her.

It wasn't until they passed the bar and paused to say goodnight to Guinan that Leo noticed that Will, Geordi, Worf, and Deanna were seated at a ringside table trying desperately to look absorbed in their own conversation about… cleaning the warp adjusters? Leo made a point of stopping.

"Well fancy meeting you, _all_ of you, here tonight."

Worf scrambled to explain, the worst choice of the quartet to do the job. "We have been discussing our maintenance assignments, Lieutenant. We found ourselves, all of us," he gestured to the others as if she might not have been aware of their presence, "off duty simultaneously."

"I find it interesting that you chose to discuss maintenance issues in Ten Forward, rather than the engineering meeting room," Data commented. He was regaining his style, and quickly. "And while off duty… is there a special assignment I have not been made aware of?"

"Well Data, you just got back, and it was pretty spur-of-the-moment," Will struggled to come up with anything to make Worf's lame scenario more plausible. Geordi and Deanna were silent, staring into their drinks.

"Well we don't want to interrupt your meeting, see you all later," Leo turned and walked toward the door, Data close behind.

"So did you get your quarters straightened out?" Geordi called after in a desperately un-subtle attempt to mine information.

"Yes, thank you Geordi. I will see you tomorrow."

When the door slid shut behind them and they'd moved a safe distance down the corridor, Data managed the perfect mix of innocence and awareness. "I am afraid they were not fully satisfied with our conversation," and this elicited a weary laugh from Leo as they continued to the turbo lift and from there to their quarters. Data arrived at the door first, and rapidly keyed in the lock code. No response. Brow furrowing, he repeated the entry. Exactly as it existed in his memory, right down the to the speed and rhythm of the keystrokes. By the time Leo caught up with him seconds later, his third attempt had failed and her comlink was chiming.

"Lieutenant O'Reilly," the automated voice intoned, "intruder alert at your quarters. Security has been summoned."

Data turned to her in complete puzzlement as she exclaimed in alarm, "Shit! No, wait," and pressed her comlink, nearly shouting, "Security, cancel that alert! This is Lieutenant O'Reilly, there is no intruder at my quarters, keypad error, repeat, keypad error."

A deep male voice replied, "Lt. O'Reilly, are you certain your quarters are secure?"

"Yes, security, I'm there right now. Must have messed up on the codes, it's been a rough time and all…" she trailed off lamely.

"Of course. I have canceled the alert. Have a pleasant evening, Lieutenant."

Leo ran her hand over her eyes as Data announced needlessly, "You have changed the security code." He himself had changed it when she'd moved in with him, to the stardate of their first meeting at the Academy.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why." She was telling the truth. She stepped forward and entered a series of numbers. The lock pad chimed and flashed and the door slid open. Data followed her inside, waiting for the door to close again before he asked,

"What is the new code?" She recited it to him, another star date.

"The date of the destruction of the Scimitar."

Her voice faltered. "The day the world changed forever." She stood alone in the middle of the room, clearly at a loss and clearly pained by the memory. Something in Data's subroutines activated, a digital holdover from positronic synapses established after the emotion chip had been present for some time. Gentle, he remembered that was how gentle manifested itself. He went to Leo and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Not forever," he reminded her in a quiet voice.

She shook her head violently. "_Fuck_ forever. Not again." He didn't respond and Leo stared up at him urgently. "_Promise_ me, not again."

"I cannot," he began, then realized that this was one of those times when accuracy was not paramount and when in human terms a "lie", paradoxically, was preferable to the truth. And because he knew she wouldn't expect it to be true, it couldn't oppose his programming. "I promise," he looked steadily into her eyes, "not again."

Abruptly she changed course. "That was unfair to ask, I know it isn't easy for you." God, she was all over the cosmic map, even she couldn't figure herself out.

"If it is what you need," Data assured her, "we will find a way to make it easy."

God, it was him, wasn't it, finding a way to parse positronics into equivalent human emotion and have it come out exactly right.

"I'm so messed up," she tried to back away but he held her still.

"You are not. You are sleep-deprived and it is likely you have not been eating regularly." He knew her so well. "It is difficult for humans to express themselves effectively in such a state. It is difficult for them to think clearly. You are too diminished to resist a learned set of emotional responses that are no longer necessary."

He was giving her every "out" in the universe, every reason for believing her neuroses and hideously mixed minefield of behavior was okay, just a slight pathology. She hadn't any idea what to say or do. He was looking right through her. No, she corrected herself, he was looking right _into_ her. He could always read her as quickly and accurately as the ship's digital library.

"Do not worry, Leora Eileen, we will make everything 'normal' again." If he had to choose one acquired skill most effective in dealing with the humans that were important to him, Data believed "gentle" would the one he would be most likely to retain.

She took a step forward then, looked closely in his eyes, "Promise?"

"I promise."

When he put his arms around her it was as if he were giving her permission. She fell from the edge of tears deep into the desperate pain and fear she'd held at bay for weeks. He was the only place that was safe for her to lose every ounce of control she knew, the only one who could keep her secure when she lost every defense. It was strange, she'd held her grief in check so often because no comfort was sufficient and now that the grief was unnecessary she was helpless to hold it back. She sobbed against him like an orphaned child, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding tight as if she were afraid he'd disappear again.

"It doesn't make sense, I know it doesn't," she gasped as Data tried to soothe her with quiet words, "Ssh, it is all right, it does not have to make sense, I am here, as I was, as you always knew me," he spoke to the illogical human turmoil boiling out of her because it was all that seemed reasonable to do. She was in pain, and he wanted to ease it, but she could offer no clues to indicate what would help. So finally he accessed a significant experience from their shared past, and "took a shot" as Geordi would have phrased it.

Through her storm of tears, Leo heard something familiar yet difficult to sort out in the midst of all of this drama. Data's smooth baritone, singing softly in her ear. Singing?

_Moonlight becomes you_

_It goes with your hair_

_You certainly know the right things to wear_

He'd sung it like that at their wedding reception in the holodeck as they danced to the holographic big-band he'd programmed with every romantic song that Beverly, Deanna, and Keiko could help him gather from the music library. Leo hiccupped in mid-sob as she felt Data's lips brush her ear.

_Moonlight becomes you_

_I'm thrilled at the sight_

_And I could get so romantic tonight_

Encouraged by Leo's returning composure, Data began to move them in the same pattern of steps he remembered from their wedding dance. He hoped triggering a shared memory of happiness and security might dissipate her distress. No longer desperately pressing her face into him, she lay more lightly against his shoulder, resting now instead of desperate for refuge.

_You're all dressed up to go dreaming_

_Now don't tell me I'm wrong_

_And what a night to go dreaming_

_Mind if I tag along_

The feeling of loss that had surrounded Leo was being replaced by a familiar warmth, a knowledge that here was the life she'd always wanted, given back by forces she'd been foolish enough to question. A gift she'd been insane enough to try to reject. Her last tearful whimper evaporated in a sigh as she relaxed in her husband's arms.

_And if I say I love you_

_I want you to know_

_It's not just because there's moonlight, although_

_Moonlight becomes you so._

When he'd finished the song, Data kissed Leo's ear as he'd done that night years ago. Not merely a positronic replay of a retained memory, it was also a spontaneous gesture based on his knowledge of who she was to him. She raised her head to face him, eyes damp but clear.

"Better?" he inquired in a hopeful voice. He didn't know what he'd do if her answer was negative; even an android could run out of ideas.

"Uh-huh." She stretched up a bit to lay her cheek against his; she'd missed him so much it felt like a reunion after years of absence instead of weeks. "Is it okay if I kiss you?" In spite of his apparent willingness to revive their relationship, she just wasn't certain how far the knowledge went or what old links might even be missing. The familiar smile, that combination of learned facial manipulation and stimulus response that made it the sweetest smile she knew, answered before he did. "Pattern repetition will hasten positronic synapse re-construction," he whispered.

"Shut up and kiss me," she told him.

"I believe that is what I just said…" and he moved first to fit his mouth to hers to draw her into a gentle, endless kiss.

Emotion chip or no, Leo's textures and temperatures and the change in her breathing and heartbeat in response to physical contact had always been for Data a source of undying fascination and pleasure. Humans considered positronic processes a poor substitute for biological sensory input, and try as he might Data had never been able to convince even his closest friends that his response to physical input held a distinct pleasure for him quite apart from his normal neural functioning even if the sensory feedback was processed differently than theirs. Leo's fragrance, the feel of her under his fingers, had often been the subject of Data's quiet contemplation during the many nights in their shared past when he'd held her as she slept. Many were the times she'd been awakened (however inadvertently on his part) by the sensitive tracing of his fingertips as he idly compared the flow of her hair to the smoothness of her breast, or the less fragile surface of her hands. At those times he knew her as no other did, unique beyond typical sexuality, and it made the bond between them stronger than any they could think of between others. Of course every couple thinks that from time to time, regardless of species.

When he'd released her mouth (Data was acutely aware of her need to breathe, a need they did not share in common) he asked, "Would you like to make love now, or do you require additional time to process our reacquaintance?"

Leo smiled fondly and kissed him again. As complete as his sexual programming was, he'd never been very good at the language of seduction. Leo knew what he was suggesting was less a consummation of their reunion than an additional source of assurance and security. A coming-home present.

"We've got a whole lifetime for that. I'm so tired I'm numb anyway."

He gave her a decidedly husbandly squeeze. "Hearts over hormones, then?" It was a phrase Leo had used when they first became close and Data was unsure how to progress, thinking sexuality might be a primary concern before their relationship advanced much beyond friendship. He hadn't wanted to jeopardize the attachment he sensed was developing between them. "We've got a whole lifetime for that, D," she'd told him at the time, "I prize hearts over hormones, anyway." By the time he'd answered her "hormones", their hearts (as respectively defined) were firmly engaged.

Leo changed into a loose sleep shirt as Data traded his uniform for the soft grey leisure clothes he favored and re-oriented himself to what, after all, had been his home before it was hers. When she reappeared in the main room she didn't bother to readjust the constantly slipping neckline that fell down over one shoulder or the other.

Data was remarking on Keiko's floral arrangement as if it were not created in observance of his "death", "These flowers are quite rare, I wonder where Keiko obtained them…" when he turned to see Leo standing in the doorway like an overtired child waiting to say goodnight. A look of wonder spread over his features, an expression familiar to everyone who knew him.

"What?" Leo asked.

Data approached her and smoothed some hair back over her shoulder. "I am glad you are no longer afraid."

She smiled, almost shyly, growing more self-conscious about what were so obviously her unnecessary histrionics "Me too."

"Would you like me to lie with you as you fall asleep?" he offered. Another of the things their friends couldn't understand was that they didn't share a bed every night. Data, after all, didn't need to rest and even when he was off-duty there were pastimes and tasks he could accomplish as Leo slept. There were times they made love, times they simply lay together while Leo slept and Data reviewed work or read for pleasure, but it didn't exactly mirror what most would consider a "typical" sleeping arrangement.

"Yes, please." She embraced him suddenly and told him almost apologetically, "I love you D, I never stopped, I should have been saying it all along, but you know I do, don't you?" She was convinced the way he looked at her was his inspiration alone, independent of positronics or emotion chips or any enhancements courtesy of the Daystrom Institute.

"I have always known." He kissed her softly and answered with the truth he'd always offered in return, emotion chip or no, "And I would love no other."

When Leo lay down Data shed his shoes and joined her, cradling her against him with her arm around his waist and her head on his shoulder. He decided that it would be quite preferable to hold her all night tonight rather than attending to the "catching up" reading that awaited him, though he didn't express the thought aloud.

"Could you sing to me again?"

Her sleepy request triggered an affectionate, oddly non-positronic smile Leo couldn't see in the dark. "Of course."

_Moonlight becomes you…_

Leo faded quietly into the first healing sleep she'd known in a month, to the sound of Data's cherished voice and the feel of his fingertips wandering aimlessly over her skin.


End file.
